


small whisper of justice

by RangerDew



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Mystery, or: reverse amnesia. where everyone forgets except for u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RangerDew/pseuds/RangerDew
Summary: Hershel Layton is assigned to a case of mysterious death- no, a series of mysterious deaths. And at the center of it all is a boy who he swears he's never met before. But if they've truly never met, then what is the strange feeling of emptiness he feels when he sees him?(or, everyone except Luke has forgotten. Can Hershel solve the mystery on his own?)





	small whisper of justice

_ Layton, _

_ As hard as it may be to believe, I’ve come by a case that I cannot solve. In fact, it appears to be much bigger than I initially thought, though I can’t seem to figure out how. _

_ Much of the case is meant to be confidential. Please come to my office at ten o’clock tonight to discuss the details. _

_ Thank you, _

_ Inspector Chelmey  _

_ . _

_ . _

_ . _

There had been a series of mysterious deaths. 

Actually, that wasn’t what Chelmey had called him over for. Chelmey had called him over for one  _ specific  _ case of mysterious death, but after Layton got a clear of the situation, there did appear to be a string, connections from this one to others.

There had been a series of mysterious deaths. All of them were couples. All of them were married.

It was too vague of a connection for Layton to go off at first, but then a specific folder caught his eye. 

_ “Luke Hollingsworth?” he had asked. _

_ “Hm? Oh, yes. The adopted son of the couple who had died. He’s one of the people coming in for questioning tomorrow.” _

_ “...According to this file, he’s been adopted many times.” _

_ “Oh? He has?” _

_ “Didn’t you mention that there have been many previous deaths recently? And that this was the one you were assigned to?” _

_ “Yes. Where are you going with this, Layton?” _

_ “...Well, it appears that this boy has been taken in for questioning before.” _

_ “Correct. He’s the adopted son of all of the couples of the previous deaths, actually.” _

_ “Oh?” _

_ “Yeah. All of his adoptive parents have died. Poor kid.” Chelmey scratches his head. “Hey, now that I think about it, it is a bit weird.” _

_ “Hm…” _

He’d thanked Chelmey for his time, and agreed to drive to the site of the death with him tomorrow morning. Then he bid him farewell.

He would have the Luke boy’s name in his head for the rest of the night.

.

.

.

He’d arrived at the estate at seven that morning.

To say it was enormous would’ve been an understatement. There was a full-scale  _ garden  _ at the entrance. Whoever the owners of this house were, they must’ve been very rich.

“Let me go!”

Layton’s head snaps to the direction of the noise. There’s a little boy, maybe aged thirteen, struggling against two police officers.

One officer seems to be trying to placate him. “Kid, calm down! You can’t be around here!”

The boy does not seem to be giving up. He gives the officer a hard kick in what seems to be a very painful area. “No! Let me go! It’s my house!”

The other officer picks this time time to speak up. “It’s technically not your house, you know. Your parents didn’t include you in their will.”

“I don’t care! I have to go back!”

Layton can’t watch this anymore. He steps in. “Gentleman, if I may. Using brute force on a child is not the polite thing to do, is it?”

The first officer scratches his head. “Er, yeah, but…” 

The second officer cuts in. “We had to. He wasn’t cooperating. We tried domestic tactics already.”

Layton looks down to the little boy. “And you? Is there any particular reason you need to go back home so desperately? I could accompany you, if you’d like.”

“What? Preposterous-”

Layton gives the second officer a  _ shut up  _ look. “Now, the world would be no good if we did not listen to what the children wanted, would it? Give the young man here what he wants.” 

The young boy, however, does not look upbeat or relieved at Layton’s interference. Instead, he looks terrified. His eyes are wide and his breathing is uneven. His body posture screams  _ run, run, run  _ for a reason Layton can’t fathom. 

So Layton tries to understand. He reaches one hand out. “Young man-?”

The boy flinches at Layton’s reach. His eyes give Layton one last desperate, scared look, and he bolts.

...Layton does not understand. 

_ That night, he dreams in monochrome of adventures with a boy who would drink sweet tea and talk to animals. He wakes up with an indescribable feeling, and the memories of the dream soon escape him. _

_ . _

_ . _

_ . _

The Luke boy refuses to be interviewed by Layton.

_ “You can interrogate me all you want. Ask me any question and I’ll answer it. As long as it’s not with him.” _

_ “But we’ve already asked you everything! The Professor wants to get a look at you himself. He’s a supergenius, can solve any case with the smallest clues! If he talks to you, maybe he’ll figure out who murdered your parents!” _

_ “Then ask him to send the questions over! If he wants answers, I’ll give them to him. But I won’t interact with him directly. I won’t.” _

_ “But, boy-” _

_ “I’M SERIOUS!” _

_ “Okay, okay, geez! No need to yell! I’ll ask him to send the questions over, alright?” _

It’s another mystery Layton can’t solve. He thought he’d been over this.

_ He remembers the fear in Luke’s eyes when he saw him, the terror running through his body- _

Layton shakes it out of his head.

Maybe he looks like someone Luke used to know? His abuser, maybe? Or perhaps Luke has heard stories of him and his adventures in the paper, and was intimidated? Layton highly doubts the second one, but he’s not going to rule anything out before he gets a closer look.

He can’t help but feel there’s something missing. A hole in the case.

_ Or a hole in his life. _

Either way, Layton knows he’ll get to the bottom of this. He has to. There’s something about the case that pulls him in.

That night, he falls asleep with the image of a light blue cap in his mind.

.

.

.

He sees Luke standing in the garden in front of the manor again, a couple mornings later. It appears the guards were not able to catch up to him.

Layton walks a little closer and notices that Luke seems to be… talking to someone. Or… something. Luke looked like he was talking to the trimmed green bush in front of him.

Layton stares for a while, and then, suddenly, a squirrel dashes out of the bush and onto a nearby tree. It’s at this point that Luke gets up from his kneeling position and looks up at the squirrel, smiles, and says, “I’m glad I could help you out!”

Layton had not expected the boy to be a schizophrenic. He files this away in his mind. He may need it later.

_ Somewhere, deep in his heart, he knows the boy is not schizophrenic. The display was real. _

_ He’d just never admit it. Not yet.  _

_ . _

_ . _

_ . _

Layton had not thought about it much, but he realizes that the last time he saw Luke, he thinks he might’ve seen the faint purple of a bruise under his sleeve. 

.

.

.

“The Misfortune Child?”

“Hm? Oh, I see you’ve been reading the tabloids for information. Really, Professor, I thought it was below you.”

“I was merely curious. The papers weren’t reporting on the incidents, and since you still won’t let me into so many of the police files, I’ve decided to do a bit of my own investigating.”

“Hmph. Typical Layton behavior. But yes, Misfortune Child is what they call him. After all, all four pairs of his previous adoptive parents have all died under mysterious circumstances. Of course the people would start to talk.”

“Were any of the causes of death related?”

“Oh, no, they were all pretty arbitrary. But it makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it would, yes. I feel rather bad for the poor boy, though. So many dead parents, and everyone suddenly starts pinning the blame on you.” 

“Yeah. Don’t start feeling too bad for the little squirt, though. He bit an officer’s arm the other day.”

“Haha, a feisty one, huh?”

“Stop the joking, Professor. We have a case to work on.”

“I know, I know. Apologies.”

.

.

.

“So, the autopsy report says they were killed by poison?”

“Yeah. A specific kind, actually. Apparently, it can be turned into gas or liquid, and it’s lethal as hell. Clear, and no smell either, so no one can see it coming. A dangerous weapon.”

“Language, Chelmey. But, where would the poison come from? They do not keep any in the house, yes?”

“We haven’t found any  _ yet _ , but we’re not ruling it out-”

The door bursts open. “Inspector Chelmey!”

Both Layton and Chelmey jump three feet out of their seats. The coffee sitting on the desk next to Chelmey spills all over the table. “Oh, rats!” Chelmey looks up at the intruding officer. “Come in quietly next time, will you?!”

“I apologize, Inspector Chelmey! But we’ve found the murderer! There’s no need to keep searching!” 

“ _ What?!” _

“It’s the Hollingsworth boy, sir! He’s guilty! We discovered him sneaking out of the manor with the same poison that was used on the Hollingsworths, sir!”

“...Well, that was unexpected! So has he been arrested?”

“Yes, sir! He’s being taken in for questioning right now!”

“Good. I’ll see to him immediately.”

There’s something wrong with the situation. Layton can’t pinpoint it. 

There’s no basis in logic, absolutely not, but Layton somehow  _ knows  _ in his heart that Luke isn’t guilty. He can’t be.

He uses his authority at this moment. “Wait, gentleman. We can’t jump so quickly to conclusions yet.”

“Why not? The boy holds the same poison. From our questioning, he doesn’t seem to care so much for his parents, either.” 

“But is that really enough to go off? We’re accusing a minor of murder here.”

The officer pipes up. “He’s the Misfortune Child! It seems pretty obvious-”

“Do you actually believe that?The entire ‘child of misfortune’ thing?” 

“I- I mean, it’s too much to be a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“I believe that too, officer. Which is why there is more investigating to be done.”

“What else is there to investigate?”

Layton begins to head towards the door. “Let me speak to the boy.”

Chelmey clears his throat. “Professor, if I recall, the boy was adamant on not speaking to you.”

“I know. But maybe now that he’s facing real prison time, he’ll listen.”

“...I doubt it.”

“I’ve got a penchant for making miracles happen. You know that. Just give me a try.”

Chelmey looks like he’s about to say no, but then he sighs. “Alright, Professor. I’ll send over a message to the guards.”

“Thank you.”

He heads down the stairs to the place where Luke is being kept. The guards nod, and he is let into the holding cell.

Where he meets face to face with a terrified Luke. 

He’s sitting on a little cot in the corner of the room. In his arms is a teddy bear.  _ One comfort they’ve allowed him. _

Layton walks over to him. “Luke Hollingsworth, is it?”

The boy does not answer.

Layton tries again. “You’re not the murderer, are you?”

No reply.

“I know you aren’t. The poison is either not yours, or for a different project entirely. Am I correct?”

Dead silence from the boy. He buries his face into his teddy bear. Oh dear. Layton is not making any progress. He has to try harder. Or a different tactic.

“I can prove you innocent, if you’d work with me.”

The Luke boy now has his face completely buried in the teddy bear. Layton knows he’s not getting an answer tonight.

So he tips his hat and puts on his signature smile. “It was nice talking with you, Luke.” And he turns around and leaves.

He swears he can feel Luke’s eyes on him as he walks out of the cell, but he knows it’s just an illusion of his mind.

.

.

.

Of all the things to happen, Layton was  _ not  _ expecting to run into his brother again.

It was so… so frustratingly ordinary, too. Layton was walking on his way home and across the street, on the neighboring sidewalk, there was Desmond, walking along his usual gait.

Of course, he approaches him. It’s not every day that Layton gets to see his brother. In fact, a part of him had thought his brother was dead, died along with the Azran in that ruin three years ago.

“Desmond.”

The other man freezes. “Layton.”

It’s awkward for a couple of seconds. And then, surprisingly, Desmond speaks up.

“You look well.”

“Thank you. You look rather well too.”

A long silence ensues. Layton breaks it.

“Well, where have you been these past years? On a journey of self-discovery across the planet?”

“As a matter of fact, Layton, I have.” His eyes turn wistful. “It was… interesting, to say the least.”

“So, are you a changed man now?”

“That’s such a silly way to put it, brother. But yes, I am. I think I’ve grown past dying and remaking myself and then breaking down again. From now on, I’ll just be Desmond.”

The word  _ brother  _ reverberated in Layton’s head. He felt a warmth blossom within him, one he hadn’t felt in a while. He smiles at Desmond. “I’m glad.”

“Truly.”

They begin to walk along in silence for a bit before Desmond opens his mouth again. “So, how are the kids doing?”

“The kids? Ah, you mean Flora and Alfendi.”

“...Alfendi? Oh, it’s impossible to keep track, what with you picking the poor, pathetic children off the streets or whatever. But I meant Flora and Luke.”

“Luke?”

“Luke Triton? Your apprentice, I believe? The one that never shut up.”

“...I’m sorry, I don’t know any Luke Triton.”

Desmond looks at Layton incredulously. “If this is some kind of prank-”

“No, no, I’m not joking around. I genuinely do not know a Luke Triton.”

“Are you on anything right now? I swear, Layton, if you got into drugs in the three years I was gone-”

“No! Heavens, Desmond, what do you think of me? No, I really do not know any Luke Triton.” He pauses in thought. “Triton… Clark’s surname? Did he have a son?”

“Are you sure you’re doing alright, Layton?”

“Yes, yes, I am… “

“This is… really quite concerning.”

“Well… I’m quite concerned too. It’s very alarming to me that you believe there is someone I know, who I have completely no memories of.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ll have to look into this. May I bounce ideas off you?”

“Oh, so your long-lost brother comes back after three years and you want him to be your ‘idea-bouncer’?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I know, I know. But yes, I’ll be here for you to bounce your ideas. Go on.”

“...Well, I’ll start with the Tritons. They don’t have any children, from what I remember…”

“Uh-huh.”

“I do know a Luke, but there’s no correlation. I haven’t known him for very long. That Luke does not seem to like me very much.”

“Well, it’s a start. What’s he like?”

“Well, he’s short. He’s always wearing a red baseball cap.. Angry, kind of… spiky. Like a porcupine.”

“Hm.”

“He refuses to speak to me. He explicitly said he’d speak to anyone  _ but  _ me. I’m still trying to sort out that mystery. And I think he may be schizophrenic.”

Desmond perks up at that. “Schizophrenic, you say?”

“Yes. Just the other day, I saw him speaking to a squirrel.”

“...He’s not schizophrenic, Layton. I am now ninety-percent certain that’s Luke Triton.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Luke could talk to animals.”

Now it’s Layton’s turn to look at Desmond incredulously. “Are you sure  _ you  _ haven’t gotten into drugs…?”

“Oh, come on, Layton, I’m being serious! And the red cap… it makes sense that the Luke I know would pick something like that. As I recall, he liked to fiddle with his hat a lot.” 

“Ah, we’ve reached my home.”

Desmond stops speaking. Indeed they had. Layton and Desmond were now standing right outside Layton’s door.

Desmond shuffles his feet. “Well, I must be going now.”

That surprises Layton. “What? Already?”

“Yes. In truth, I was only passing by here. I still have a place to go back to.”

“...Oh. I see.”

“Don’t worry about me, Layton. I’m happy, and I’m doing alright. And… I do hope to become closer to you. To be the brother I couldn’t.”

And that word yet again,  _ brother _ . Layton couldn’t say no. “I understand, Desmond. Until another day.”

Desmond nods. “Until then.”

And he leaves. Layton stands on his porch now, alone, feeling emptier than ever before.

.

.

.

Layton walks into the Scotland Yard headquarters the next morning. “I would like to speak to Lu-”

“Professor Layton! Oh, thank goodness you’re here! We’re in a bit of a crisis right now.”

“What happened?”

“The boy has escaped! He’s not anywhere on the premises!”

“What?”

“Do you have any idea where he could be?”

Of course, the first thing that pops back into Layton’s head is the manor. Luke, within the past weeks, had seemed increasingly desperate to get back to the Hollingsworth estate.  _ But for what purpose? _

The poison. They said they had caught Luke with the poison. They also said that initially, they hadn’t found the poison anywhere in the manor. That meant…

A secret room? An unlikely conclusion, but Layton usually went for unlikely conclusions anyway. He turns to head out the door.

The officer who had filled him in earlier sputtered. “H-hey! Where are you going? We need you for the investigation!”

“I think I just might know where the boy went, officer.”

“Huh? Where?”

“The Hollingsworth estate. I believe there’s a secret room located somewhere on the premises.”

“What?”

“You can send in officers after me. I’ll go on ahead.”

“W-wait!” 

The doors to the Scotland Yard close behind Layton. He gets in his trusty old car and begins the drive.

When he arrives at the manor, it’s empty. Most of the officers sent here must’ve been called back to the Yard to search for Luke.

Layton ducks under the police tape surrounding the doors of the manor and walks on in. 

Where would a secret room be, in a rich man’s manor like this one?

He heads towards the study.

It’s just as pretentious as he expected, the study. Though Layton supposes he can’t really judge. A gentleman’s study is his own space, after all.

He heads over to the bookshelf, the most obvious choice. Scans over the books. There’s one titled  _ Demonstrating Overt Optimism: A Reading.  _ He takes it out. 

He hears a click, and heads over to one side of the bookshelf and pushes.

The bookshelf flips. Layton, once again, finds himself face-to-face with Luke.

The room they’re in isn’t filled with much. There’s a hardwood desk in one corner, expensive and huge in one corner of the room. On it are assorted bottles and flasks. Luke looks like he’s been caught red-handed.

Layton knows he has to try to converse with Luke again. “Are those the poisons that killed your parents?”

Luke does not answer. Layton decides to go against logic and trust his brother and his gut, just this once.

“Was your original surname Triton, by any chance? Luke Triton?”

And Luke looks like he’s been struck by lightning. In his shock, he speaks. “I- no! No, it wasn’t!”

“Well? What was it, then?”

“I don’t remember! My parents died when I was really young! Really young! I have no memories of it!”

“Your file says you were first put into the foster care system at age fourteen.” 

“S-shut up! I lived on the streets!”

“You don’t have the temperament of someone who has.”

“I- what does that even mean?!”

Layton puts his hands to his chin. “Luke, there’s something you’re not telling me. I know you’re not a child of misfortune, but there’s not enough available information for me to prove that. I know you’ve got the missing piece.”

“There you are again, spouting your puzzles! Just leave me be!”

He throws a flask at Layton. It narrowly misses him and smashes itself against the wall.

Luke continues his tantrum. “All you had to do was leave me alone! Just for another couple days… Just for another week…”

A tear rolls down his face. “Just for a little bit! But now the entire plan… the plan…”

He seems to snap back to reality and realize he should not be talking to Layton, and shuts up. Layton waits. 

The room is silent. The broken flask lies on the floor beside Layton. 

Then, the muffled sound of scrambling men sounds from outside the study. “In here, in here! We haven’t checked yet!”

Luke freezes, and bolts.

Layton tries to follow him. “Wait-!”

It’s a messy blur of a scramble inside the study. In the end, a curtain hangs out of the open window, and the faraway sounds of a boy running across the garden can be heard. Layton stares out the window after Luke. 

The boy had said to Layton, “There you go again”. Again.

Layton thinks back to his conversation with Desmond. Luke’s insistence that he could not speak with Layton. The weird gut feeling of something  _ missing  _ within the past weeks. 

He clutches his hat in the breeze. Maybe his memory is getting poor after all.

.

.

.

Luke has been missing for three days now. Chelmey is beginning to get impatient. Every day, Layton swears Chelmey is drinking more and more coffee. 

They’re in Chelmey’s office one morning, investigating (Chelmey appears to already be on is third cup of coffee) when suddenly, an officer busts in again.

“Inspector!”

Chelmey’s arm flails, and his coffee spills all over the table again. He pounds his fist on his desk. “DAMMIT, YOU-”

The officer continues without pause. “The Hollingsworth boy has been spotted!”

“What? Where?”

“Civilians say they saw him running across the campus of Gressenheller University, sir!”

_ Gressenheller?  _

Chelmey seemed to have the same thought as Layton did. “Gressenheller University? What business could he have there? And Professor, isn’t that where you teach?”

Layton had already begun gathering his belongings. “It is, Inspector. If this involves Gressenheller, I believe I must go. It’s my duty as a professor there and as an investigator on this case.”

“What?! Alright, alright. I guess I have to come with you.”

Layton gets into his car, Chelmey and the officer right behind him, and drives off.

When they arrive at the university, there were officers around every corner. The students all looked some kind of disturbed at the large amount of government authority on campus. Rosetta called out to Layton when he began walking toward the main building.

“Hey! Professor-”

“I’m in a hurry right now, Ms. Stone. Apologies.”

“But why are all these officers here? You can at least offer an explanation, right?”

“I will, at our next lecture. Now please, go back to what you were doing, Ms. Stone. I’m afraid I have urgent business.” 

If he had to guess, Luke was going to use the poison he had mixed up three days before in that room with Layton for something. There was no guessing what room he’d be in, though.

Layton looked at the row of windows along the main building. Would he choose the main lobby? Dean Delmona’s office? Or-

Layton thought of all the mysterious connections he had made with Luke over the investigation. Desmond telling him, that no, he did indeed know a Luke Triton, somewhere in the past. The gaping void in his heart where he felt  _ something  _ should be.

He heads toward his own office, Chelmey’s protests of  _ Slow down!  _ sounding behind him.

When he gets there, the door is locked. He bangs on it once, twice, and it does not budge. He presses his ears against the door.

Inside, he hears someone speak. A foreign voice. “Ha. Luke, it appears your  _ professor  _ has caught up to us after all.”

“S-shut up! He won’t get in. I secured the door. There’s no way.” Luke’s voice. Layton would recognize it anywhere.

“Well, I’d wager there’s a good chance he’s listening to this conversation right now.” He  _ tsk _ s. “Come on, Little Luke. I thought I’d told you to stay away from him.”

“I-I did! I did! I didn’t speak to him! Or even touch him! He was the one that kept seeking me out!”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve only just found this out. Otherwise he’d be dead too, killed by that poison you’re holding.”

There’s a beat of silence. The mysterious man laughs again. “You didn’t think I’d notice? I follow your every move. Everything you do. It’s only this past week that I’ve been a bit…  _ busy.  _ I’ve been lacking in my supervision.” Layton can hear Luke give a little gasp of fear from the other side of the door. “But now, we’re together, aren’t we? For this fateful day?”

More silence. Then, Luke’s voice. “No. There is going to be no fateful day.”

“Oh?”

A couple seconds past. Layton begins to grow anxious. 

Suddenly, he hears a flask smash on the other side of the door.

His heart drops.

He whips around to Chelmey. “Help me break down this door! Quick!” 

“What? Okay!”

They count,  _ one, two, three,  _ and both hit the door with all their might. The door falls down.

Inside, Luke has his arms covering his nose and mouth. The mysterious man Layton heard outside appeared to be collapsed on the floor. His pristine white mask, a face half smiling half crying, had a piece of glass lodged on it.

Layton tries to carry Luke out, but his hands are kicked away. Instead, an officer is the one who helps Luke out, while Layton and Chelmey carry the collapsed man.

They head out, and Layton can’t get what he heard out of his head.

.

.

.

The masked man is pronounced dead the following morning. When Layton took off the mask, he discovered that it was, in fact, a gas mask. He had anticipated Luke’s attack. The man would not have been affected by the poison. He was killed by the glass that had shattered against his head and neck.

Luke came out unharmed, much to everyone’s wonder. He would stay in the hospital for the following day just in case, but there wasn’t a hair harmed on his body.

At least, that’s what Layton heard.

He was skeptical about the reports, and his suspicions were confirmed correct when he stepped into the room to see his brother Desmond, of all people, tending to a series of bruises on Luke’s arm.

Desmond notices him step into the room. At that, he gets up and nods, signaling his leave.

As Desmond walks out, Layton sits himself next to Luke. He tries his best not to eye the bruises on his arm, but he thinks he fails.

They have a lot to discuss, though. Layton wants answers. So he begins. “The masked man is dead now. May we finally speak?”

Luke pulls his shirt over the bruises on his arm. “...Okay.”

“You are… Luke Triton, correct?”

“I was.”

“And what has changed?”

“None of you remember the boy he was anymore. He doesn’t exist.”

“...Why were you so adamant on avoiding me?”

“I had to.” Luke rubs his eyes, and his voice cracks a little. “He was going to kill you guys if I got close to you. To anyone.”

“Ah. I’m making some connections now. ‘Misfortune Child’, correct?”

“...Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I was the only one who could stop his plan. He believed that if he alienated me, I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Oh? That’s… interesting.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure he was delusional.”

There’s a long silence after that weak attempt of a joke. Luke’s voice softly speaks up again. “I was so scared. All the time.”

Layton lays his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “So, Clark and Brenda… you really are their son?”

“Yeah.” He sniffles. “They forgot about me too, huh? I was so mad at first. What kind of parents forget their own kid?” Quieter, “What kind of mentor forgets his own apprentice?”

Layton simply waits for him to go on. 

“I was gonna go to America. Away from you. I wished every night upon every star that I could stay. Looks like I got my wish, huh?”

And they sit there for a while, Luke crying, Layton’s hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder. After a while of quiet (Luke’s crying had died down into small, occasional sniffles), Layton speaks again. “The poison. It was gaseous. You were using it in an enclosed room.”

“What had you expected to happen, had we not kicked the door down?”

The temperature of the room dropped. Luke doesn’t say anything for a while. When he finally does, his voice is tiny, quiet, and afraid.

“It would’ve been me in exchange for the fate of all of London, right?”

_ It’s not like anyone would’ve remembered me anyway  _ goes unsaid. Layton leans forward and gathers Luke in a hug, the gentlest one he could muster. 

Luke breaks down crying.

They bond over the next few days, just like that. He’d cancelled his university lectures for a week, and every day he’d come in and talk to Luke, relearning all the things he’d forgotten.

_ “Luke, you don’t have to answer this if it’s uncomfortable, but… where did your bruises come from?” _

_ “Huh? Ah, these! Um, you know the Hollingsworths?” _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “Before they adopted me, they’d been caught up in a huge scandal of some sort. So, um, they didn’t adopt me out of the kindness of their hearts or whatever. They adopted me because they needed to improve their public image quick.” _

_ “I’m beginning to see where this is going.” _

_ “Haha, yeah… it wasn’t that often or anything, though! They just… did it when they needed to let off steam. Like, a few punches, or they’d tell me I didn’t matter or whatever…” _

_ “...You didn’t believe any of that, did you, Luke?” _

_ “...Of course not.” _

Layton soon found out more about the masked man. A delusional man who’d wanted to destroy all of London because every family member he’d known here had looked away and abandoned him.

It makes some sense, now, why he’d decided to separate Luke the way he did. And apparently, the reason he’d chosen Luke was because he’d actually thought that Luke was the only one who could stop him. 

Perhaps he was right. Or perhaps it was because he thought that he was right that it was his undoing. 

Either way, Layton decided that he could put the mystery to rest now. There wasn’t a puzzle he couldn’t solve, but it was his gentleman’s duty to stay by Luke’s side for now. The boy had gone through a lot.

.

.

.

Layton woke up one morning  _ remembering  _ a boy in a blue cap who could talk to animals. He remembered the Oracle, his apprenticeship, their adventures around the world and around London. He remembers a statue of an author and an ill little boy bearing an uncanny resemblance to the two of them. They were best of friends, the author and the boy. The author and the boy that shared the faces of him and Luke.

And Hershel knows that he’ll never forget again. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this all in one fast burst starting 11:30 pm last night
> 
> i've had this idea in my head for a while i've just not written it down until now
> 
> if i had the time, patience, and skill i would've made this into an actual fangame but alas i'm not any of those lol
> 
> i tried to make it as accurate to the feel of the professor layton series as i could. is what i WOULD say but really that was my excuse to take a lot of liberties with plot and leave out the part where i examine luke's trauma after all this.
> 
> this would've been very fun to write from luke's perspective, i think, but i wanted it to feel like a real mystery. so i did it from the pov of a man who does not know what is going on rather than the boy that does 
> 
> i realize that this fic is incredibly confusing and vague, and it leaves a lot of holes. if anyone's still foggy about what just happened just ask 
> 
> thanks for reading. for those who are here because you're mad phoenix hasn't updated yet i'm sorry i'll post an update soon for halloween probably. thank you


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